The Chamber of Instruments
by Francienyc
Summary: Rilian learns from his father and the memory of the four monarchs of the Golden Age what kingship is. Post Voyage of the Dawn Treader, very much pre Silver Chair.


_The Chamber of Instruments_

Prince Rilian could remember well the moment his education began. He had been learning all the kingly arts for some time now: battle strategy and heraldry and horseback riding and swordplay. He had already heard the grooms saying he was a natural on a horse, and he had beaten Lord Drinian several times at chess now, which proved he was grasping strategy. He thought Drinian might be letting him win until he heard the Lord mutter under his breath after a loss "If that blasted mouse were here, he would beat the princeling soundly."

Still, he said when he was a grown-up king himself that these were but the trappings of a king, and he truly began to learn what makes a king in the Chamber of Instruments in Cair Paravel.

His attendant, a faun called Omuns, woke him up one night in the middle of the night. "Put on your cloak and lace your sandals," he said to Rilian. "The king has commanded you to the Chamber of Instruments."

Rilian often slept poorly at night because the blood of stars flowed in his veins, so he was not groggy when Omuns woke him. His people inhabited the night. Even if he had been sleepy eyed, he would have been wide awake in seconds. It's always an adventure to wander in the middle of the night, and Rilian was doubly excited because he was finally getting to see the room he had been barred from for so long.

"Omuns," Rilian said as they walked along the carpeted hall, "Why haven't I been allowed in the Chamber of Instruments before?"

"Your father the King gave the order when you were a boy," Omuns answered. He had a reedy, musical voice which sounded like the pipes he played so well. "He said that the Chamber of Instruments and the War Cabinets are not rooms made for small princes."

"What? Did he think I should break things and run about screaming?"

"Doubtless his Highness had reasons, but he did not explain them to me beyond this. It is not for your Grace to question him."

Rilian pulled a face; he hated to be shut down by the King's-word-is-law dictum. Where did it come from, anyway? He didn't pout much though, for now Omuns' hooves were tapping on the marble floor of the throne room, and he led Rilian to a chamber to the left of the King's throne.

Omuns opened the door and said with a bow "I leave you here." And so Rilian went in alone.

When Rilian entered he had a double surprise. He had expected to find Lord Drinian inside, or perhaps the Dwarf Trumpkin, since his father was away in the Lone Islands. However, the man that greeted the prince was none other than King Caspian himself. The King was obviously just from port: his traveling cloak was slung over a chair and he smelled of the sea when Rilian hugged him.

"I sent for you as soon as I returned," King Caspian explained to his son. "The hour has come for you to learn what it means to be a king, for when the clock strikes you will be thirteen."

The king sounded so serious that Rilian was a little overawed. "Please, sir," he stammered. "Aren't I still too young?"

Caspian smiled. "I was not much older than you when I took the throne. The High King Peter himself had not even reached manhood when he led the Narnians to victory at both battles of Beruna. And he was the eldest of the four that took their thrones at Cair Paravel. It is certainly not too early to begin."

Rilian swallowed. "But father—it was different. I still don't think I'm ready."

"Good. If you had said you were, it would have proved that you weren't," Caspian said with a smile. "The hour has come, and you must do the best you can. I bid you my son, look around."

Here the prince received his second surprise. The room was magnificent. It was a circular chamber with windows facing the four points of a compass. These windows were circular and set rather high in the walls. Though it was very dark out, Rilian could see that they were made of a colored glass and must have shown magnificently during the day. At that hour of the night he could scarcely make out that each window had its own design. He also glimpsed rich tapestries hung underneath, but there was far too much else to look at for him to study them. There were tables and shelves full of glittering, odd-looking instruments. Some were familiar as instruments in he used in lessons – though Rilian's tools were not nearly so fine—but others were objects he had never seen at all and could only conjecture at their uses.

Rilian ran to and fro for a few minutes while Caspian stood back smiling. The loveliest part of the room was that though it was full of interesting items, it was not at all crowded or musty. It was as all fine things in Narnia were—airy, bright, and beautiful. Eventually, though, Caspian walked over to Rilian, who was examining an astrolabe, and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "Come. I want to show you what I brought you here for."

He led Rilian under the south-facing window, and now Rilian examined the tapestry which hung under it. It was of a girl older than himself by only a year or two, but she already bore a golden circlet on her head, the mark of a Queen of Narnia. She was dark haired and very, very beautiful, with a fair weather face. "Who is she?" Rilian asked.

"That is the Queen Susan," Caspian said softly. "I see you are taken with her beauty. It's only right; lords and princes far and wide vied for her hand."

"And what are these?" Rilian gestured to the objects laid out with great care on a table beneath the tapestry.

"Surely I have told you of how the royal children ended the hundred year winter in Narnia, and one of the first signs of its ending was their visit from Father Christmas?"

Rilian nodded.

"Well then, these were her gifts: arrows sure to hit their mark when fitted to this bowstring, and this horn, an enchanted horn sure to bring help. I myself winded it and called the four monarchs back from their world."

Rilian reached out and traced his fingers over the beautifully carved surface of the horn. If he blew it now, could he call the kings and queens? He thought also of his father when he must have been very young, fighting for a free Narnia against Miraz the usurper, the great war that his father and his truest friends and allies had fought.

"And now we shall see if you pay attention in your history lessons," Caspian said a little wryly. "Do you remember what Queen Susan was called?"

"The Gentle," Rilian answered at once.

"Precisely. And from her, I learned what it is to love and be kind by showing that love. As a king, it is easy to live a life apart. You can spend your life in a castle, buried in affairs. Do that and you become like Gumpas, the pompous governor of the Lone Islands. Walk among your people and love them, and you will be remembered with love as Queen Susan was."

The prince nodded and followed his father to the window facing west. There hung a tapestry of a dark haired boy with watchful eyes who was somewhat younger than himself. 'The King Edmund?" he guessed.

Caspian nodded. "He has no gift from that Christmas, but we found this when we were rebuilding Cair Paravel. It is a miracle of his world: a torch which gives light without fire." He showed his son the silver instrument, stranger than any of the others, with the name "Edmund" printed on it.

"What? That cannot be!"

"See for yourself. Slide that catch there."

Rilian did so and was amazed. Light emanated from the torch and shone on the east-facing wall. "Father, what miracle is this?"

Caspian laughed. "I do not know. If Edmund were here, he would explain it to us; he was good with the inner workings of things. I only know that we must not leave it burning, for the magic of this thing does not last forever."

Regretfully, Rilian clicked the switch back and the torch went dark. He replaced it and looked up at the tapestry. "King Edmund was so young."

"Indeed. He was perhaps a little closer to your age when we sailed together on the _Dawn Treader_, but he had a wisdom beyond his years. He was known as the Just king, but I remember other things about Edmund. He was a faithful friend, and to him friendship meant not doing what is going to make people happy, but what will help them most. He fought by my side without my ever asking, he followed the High King his brother without question, and whenever I thought to do something…rash, he reminded me first of the responsibilities of a king and second, that I was not all powerful. There are powers higher than us, Rilian, and it is easy to forget that we are sworn in allegiance to the High King and above all, to Aslan. I almost forgot, and if I had it would have cost Narnia greatly."

"When? What happened?"

"That's a story for another time. But, come, I wish to take you to the east."

On the eastern wall were both a tapestry and a map. Caspian explained this instantly. "I have shared Queen Lucy's wall with a treasure of my own, the map that Coriakin drew of the Easternmost Seas. It was incredible to see him make it—he merely laid the parchment on the table and had Drinian describe our trip. And as he talked, the lines traced themselves. This, Rilian, is what lies east, to the end of the world."

Rilian felt a thrill run through him as he stared at the map. Had his father really been all these places? Why was one island called Deathwater? What exactly did the Silver Sea look like? When next his father gathered with his old shipmates, he vowed to be there to hear the tales of the sailors, all now happy lords of Narnia.

Caspian seemed to be reading his mind, for he said "If you join the ship's company, remember not all of us will be there. Reepicheep the mouse has gone on to the World's End. And King Edmund and Queen Lucy and their kinsman Eustace—they would not be there either. A loss indeed, because their presence is everywhere in stories of the _Dawn Treader_." He reached up and touched the tapestry of a young, smiling girl with an extraordinary light in her eyes. "Lucy loved the _Dawn Treader_ as I did," he said. "Together we made it our home and we stared at the brightness of the easternmost seas. If you should ever meet someone like Lucy, count yourself lucky my son. She was brave but not bold, a lady with a lion's heart. She had more faith than anyone I've ever met: faith in Aslan, in Narnia, faith in all the hopes that humans have. With her, the world seemed possible. There were so many times she said exactly what I was feeling…I could not have asked for a better traveling companion."

"What about mother?" Rilian knit his eyebrows.

"I would not have anyone but your mother for my queen, but she is not much of a wayfairer. For a shipmate I would choose Lucy every time." Caspian winked and decided to leave off the lesson on the complexities of human emotions for the time being. Instead he lifted the small diamond flask placed beneath the tapestry and said "Queen Lucy's gift befits her valiant nature and tender heart. This cordial will heal any wound and cure any illness. Use it only in the greatest need, and then sparingly—just one drop will work the cure."

"But Father," Rilian said when he had examined the tapestry more closely, "She is so young! She's but a child—how can she be a queen, and one of the most famous Queens of Narnia at that?"

"The Queen Lucy was a brave adventurer from the first. It was she who brought the other children into Narnia. So you might even say that she ended the reign of the White Witch. She began it all. It takes great wisdom and a greater heart to follow such faith. Can you say you never doubted Aslan? I have, but I have not known her to ever doubt."

Rilian reconsidered the child's face woven in the tapestry. Years later, when he would stand in contemplation before it, he realized that he had never seen certitude write itself across anyone's face like that. In that moment, he couldn't comprehend the awe he felt for her, but he was filled with admiration for the girl Queen.

Quietly, Caspian led Rilian to the window facing North. Rilian knew who they would encounter there; what evidence of the High King that remained was displayed all over the castle. His name was invoked most frequently when the Golden Age of Narnia was recalled—Peter, High King over all kings in Narnia. Rilian knew that when the time for his knighthood came and he was pledge to the Most Noble Order of the Lion, he would then avow allegiance to Peter. When he took his throne off in some distant future, they would say his father was granted the crown by Aslan and by the High King, and so it would be to the end of Narnia. Rilian had learned to revere his name and his person as something beyond the lot of mortals.

Thus, when he looked up into the tapestry he was most surprised. The High King was not much older than himself, fair of hair and fresh of face. Though in his eyes there dwelt a glint of the nobility that would make him the most celebrated monarch Narnia had known, his cheeks were rosy and his smile merry. Rilian looked down at the sword and shield polished to glinting perfection and saw that he could have lifted and wielded the High King's weapons with ease. Rilian swallowed, and he realized that he was disappointed. Surely this man should have been larger than life? Yet here was evidence that he was only a boy.

"Our friend Trumpkin made the same mistake in underestimating the High King," Caspian said. Rilian thought for a moment his father could read minds, but he realized his face must have told the whole story. "Do not be deceived. The miracle is not that that he was possessed with unnatural strength or ability, but that he used what grace had given him to become the best king this land has known. And better still, he was majestic but kind, lordly but not cold. You should have seen him with his sisters, how he protected them, or how he guarded his brother's life as dearer than his own on the field of battle. And me…when he arrived at Aslan's How that day one of the first things he said to me was 'I haven't come to take your place, but to put you in it.' He proceeded to risk his life and limb to do that, meeting Miraz in single combat and leading the army at the second Battle of Beruna. This was Peter. He loved everyone more than himself and he fought to protect them all. That's how he assured a Golden Age for Narnia."

Caspian stepped back from the picture. "Rilian, learn what you can from these four. I have been following them as one follows the four points of the compass, and I have been the better for it. You can learn years of history and thousands of folk stories, but I have come to know these four. Do not let their memory die. When it goes, we are no better than the Telmarines of old."

Caspian's face was so earnest that he looked like a boy again, and Rilian felt awe mixed with the merry desire to laugh steal over him. He looked at the expressions all the monarchs wore and he understood what it would mean to be a boy king, or a king at all. The clock struck midnight, beginning his thirteenth year.

* * *

_A/N: Caspian just hasn't been getting enough love lately (though I'm sure he will as soon as they make Prince Caspian, which in my personal opinion needs to happen tomorrow as I live in deathly fear that the four Pevensies will get too old. If you'll notice, Lewis clearly says Edmund is fair like Lucy, but I have given him dark hair because forget Lewis' throwaway descriptions--Skandar Keynes has become Edmund for me.). So anyway here's my fic about him (Caspian, not Skandar Keynes) and Rilian. And suprise! it's a one-shot._  



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